Wednesday, Beika Town.
An ordinary workday.
As the morning sun shone through the thin mist, a flight from London landed smoothly on the runway of Miho Airport.
Since the dramatic conclusion of the “20 million hostage kidnapping case” that shocked the entire Metropolitan Police Department and captivated countless hearts a few days ago, Beika Town has enjoyed a rare period of relative calm.
Please note that it is "relative".
Although some of Beika Town's "everyday special cases"—such as locked-room murders, kidnappings with perfect alibis, bloodshed caused by a bowl of ramen, and couples turning against each other into murders—continue to emerge one after another, just like the new rice balls that the corner convenience store releases every week.
But to the honest and simple people of Beika Town, who are generally psychologically strong, this is nothing out of the ordinary.
It can even be used as a topic of conversation during breakfast.
As long as it's not a large-scale terrorist attack or bombing that threatens the entire city, requires large-scale evacuation of residents, deployment of counter-terrorism forces, and could potentially affect one's own balcony.
To the exceptionally resilient nerves of the residents of Beika Town, it was a peaceful and tranquil day, a day when they could safely air out their quilts.
Furthermore, according to the population report released by the Beika City Hall in the first half of the year, the population of Beika Town continues to grow at a considerable rate.
Housing prices have also risen steadily.
Perhaps... everyone has gotten used to this exciting pace of life?
After all, a mundane life needs a little spice.
Teitan School, Infirmary
The bell for the break between classes had just rung, and the infirmary was filled with a faint smell of disinfectant and a lazy, relaxed atmosphere.
A handsome young man, seemingly bathed in soft light, was lounging in a chair prepared for patients, his chin resting on one hand, while the fingertips of his other hand, with its distinct knuckles, tapped lightly on the smooth wooden armrest with a certain rhythmic quality.
In front of him, a figure in a well-fitting white coat was standing with his back to him, slowly preparing medicine in front of the medicine shelf against the wall, as if selecting a work of art.
The movements were elegant, with a unique sense of rhythm.
“Sister Bei…”
The boy spoke, his voice tinged with a helpless laugh, breaking the silence of the room, "That's Ai's aunt, and by all accounts, she's my aunt too. How could you do this? That's too ruthless."
His tone was relaxed, and it didn't sound like he was really going to interrogate someone; rather, it sounded more like a familiar joke.
The figure in the white coat in front of me paused slightly, then slowly turned around.
Backlit, you can clearly see the name tag hanging on his, or rather her, chest, which clearly reads "Shinichi Akira".
However, when the gaze moves upward, what comes into view is not Dr. Araide's male face, but a stunningly beautiful face that is enough to make any onlooker, regardless of gender, take their breath away, a face that is both charming and cold, and full of allure.
Her emerald eyes were like deep pools, and the corners of her mouth curved into a smile that was neither a smile nor a frown. She was none other than the Thousand-Faced Witch, Vermouth.
The wheels of history always roll forward in a strange and stubborn way, trying to crush all variables.
Or rather, the plot-correcting power of the Detective Conan world is like that of a screenwriter with obsessive-compulsive disorder.
Although the script has been completely altered beyond recognition by a certain unconventional "deity," some key and iconic "plot points" seem to be slowly and stubbornly trying to return to the "right track" in a bizarre way.
For example, perhaps one morning Vermouth wakes up and suddenly has a whim to relive the long-lost, vibrant campus life and experience what it's like to be a nurse.
Thus, poor Dr. Shinichiro, just as his fate had been, was once again "stole" without even a chance to resist.
He was forced to go offline and take a vacation.
However, unlike the relatively "simple" Teitan in the original work, the current Teitan is so complex that it can even support a Tyrannosaurus Rex.
Leaving aside the students, the faculty and staff are a veritable den of hidden talents, with agents from various countries and intelligence personnel from major organizations lurking among them, in a frighteningly high proportion.
For an ordinary person like Shinichiro, with a relatively simple background, temporarily leaving this place of trouble might not be a bad thing, from a certain perspective.
At least their lives were safe.
Moreover, similar to the anime plot, the real doctor who was replaced is currently being "protected" by FBI agent Jodie Starling—or rather, under FBI surveillance.
Of course, Vermouth never intended to actually kill the innocent doctor; she had long since outgrown the stage where she needed to silence him to maintain a perfect facade.
After all, times have changed. With her young master as her greatest source of confidence and support for her willful and reckless behavior, she no longer needs to rely on the blood of innocent people to ensure her safety or the completion of her mission, as she did in the past.
If you're so capable, then come and expose me.
Upon hearing Hanyu Nan's question, which was not exactly a reprimand, Vermouth turned around, placed the prepared medicine on a tray beside her, and walked closer with elegant cat-like steps.
She leaned forward slightly, placing her hands on the armrests of Yuzuru Hanyu's chair, encircling him in an ambiguous distance. A mischievous and alluring light flickered in her emerald eyes, and her red lips parted slightly, her warm breath brushing against the boy's earlobe.
"What's wrong? Don't you like having a blonde, blue-eyed little girl with a special identity? I specially prepared a 'gift' for you, little master. I guarantee it's freshly made and one of a kind."
Yuzuru touched his nose, adopting an expression of righteous indignation:
"Putting that aside, Sister Bay, isn't your 'production' process a bit... too simple, brutal, and stimulating? Forced drug administration and a death kiss right off the bat, who can stand that?"
Upon seeing this, Vermouth's smile became even more alluring.
She leaned closer, almost pressing herself against Hanyu Nan, lowering her voice to a forbidden, seductive tone, like a devil's whisper:
“My dear little master…you can’t say that. This little girl, in terms of blood ties and legal relations, is still wearing the identity of an ‘elder’.”
She deliberately emphasized the word "elders," with an ambiguous implication, "Think about it, isn't this...subtle sense of transgression, challenge to ethics, and insubordination even more...heart-pounding, even more exciting?"
"Cough cough..."
Yuzuru coughed twice, feeling his moral compass being hammered by Sister Bei, and on the verge of shattering.
He's really not that kind of person!
It must be admitted that Bayonetta is indeed a master at understanding people's hearts, accurately hitting someone's hidden... point of interest.
A "little aunt" with the soul of a mature, sophisticated woman and rich experience as a secret agent, yet possessing the appearance of a legally cute little girl...
The premise, the contrast, the sense of taboo...
Indeed... there's something there.
It suits someone's taste perfectly.
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